Astor // Arthur Shelby x Reader - Peaky Blinders

Chapter 54

I stare at the paper sprawled across the desk in my bedroom the next morning, eyeing it with shame, as though it was a drunken mistake and not a doctor's orders.

I can't bear to re-read the shakily written words. I'm sure my handwriting must once have been neat. But whatever it may have looked like is now lost to me.

I scowl.

I step into my boots.

I scrunch up the paper and throw it into the waste basket.

No good will come from re-reading the words. From admitting that, as the doctor said, I found it far easier to make sense of what has been rattling through my brain when writing everything down.

However, even though I push the matter from my mind, I find myself unable to look at Arthur as we continue to work on the irrigation system. Because I feel shame. Writing my thoughts down only made it plain to me how stupid I have become. How little of my life still exists in my mind.

Everyone around me must think I'm a simpleton. How can I explain to them that I still have coherent thoughts, it's just that I cannot speak them? They are so overwhelming it's like choking every time I try. No wonder Arthur can barely look at me — he must be ashamed too, if he was telling the truth, that we were once married. What a disappointment I must have become.

"...Astor?"

Brain zap. I snap back to myself and glance at Arthur in response. Trying to overcome the overwhelming and irrational urge to cry.

His gaze softens. But, as always, cannot linger on me for too long. He crouches back down and glances away from me, turning his attention back to fixing the pipe with a wrench.

"What is it?" I ask. I bend down to pick up a new piece of piping for the next part. The sun is low in the sky and blinding us both.

Arthur hesitates, as though trying to pluck up the courage for something. I can't look away as his movements slow. He clears his throat and turns to me hesitantly. "I've been meaning to ask you something," he says, his voice shaking slightly.

I wait. "Okay."

"Would you like to go to a boxing match with me?"

My eyes widen a little in surprise, my earlier worries suddenly forgotten. Small waves of excitement roll through me. I must have enjoyed boxing, I think to myself, rationalising why I'm feeling this way. But the excitement feels dangerously close to the brain zaps, and so I try to dull my reaction.

Arthur must notice my surprised expression, because he quickly adds, "Only if you want to. One of the doctors mentioned it could be a good experience. Engaging the senses is good for memory recall or something... I don't bloody know." He turns back to the pipe. "Said it might even be an opportunity to make some new memories together."

I focus very hard on the feeling of the cool metal beneath my fingers, my palms. "Alright," I finally say.

"You'll come?" He asks, his body suddenly still.

"Yes." Once again, a plethora of new thoughts come rushing to my mind, words and ideas and even feelings I cannot wrap my head around. If I try to focus on any singular one, they all cluster around me like a swarm of relentless hornets descending on their prey.

My grip tightens on the metal pipe. If Arthur notices, he doesn't show it. Only nods his head and turns back to work.

I have a feeling he's smiling.